After
by wizardsanddarklords
Summary: The wizarding world was torn apart and hastily put back together after the War. For those who fought in battle, for those who lost loved ones, for those learning not just how to survive but to live again and for those who were born with hope, this is for them.
1. 1 - Cormac McLaggen

**Authors Note: **Wow. Hi there. I have been sightly MIA for the past...year or two. I am back, sort of. Currently I am working on this series, in theory, and planning, there should be 26 chapters. How that will wok out is anyone's guess. This was bittersweet to write, I hope you enjoy.

X

* * *

For the record, Hermione Granger loved Christmas Carolers, thank you very much. As an only child she had always wished she had had a huge family full of kids, so they could go around her neighbourhood and sing together with harmonies and everything, just like the Brady Bunch. She had found out very early on in life, and so had her unfortunate neighbours, that you cannot create harmonies when you are an only child. Nevertheless, she loved Christmas Carollers. However, what Hermione Granger did not love was people singing carols, terribly, outside her house at 2:37 in the morning.

At first she had thought she was dreaming, wisps of memories of the Weasley boys and their crude adaptations over Sunday dinner. It wasn't until the German version of silent night began that she realised it was someone on her street, more than likely outside her house.

Only seven months after the war had ended, Hermione still carried the bad habits she had picked up. She still slept fully clothed, her wand tucked in its sheath on her arm with her bag sat beside her, fully packed and her ready to get up and leave her life behind. Seven months wasn't enough to create one she would miss.

Tonight was the first night in as long as she could remember that she had fallen asleep without shoes on, more than likely a product of George slipping a little too much fire whiskey into her hot chocolate. Slipping into them and donning her dressing gown, just in case it was just one of her Muggle neighbours, merely drunk after a Christmas party. With her wand poised and a stunning spell on her lips, Hermione peered through the gap in her curtain, huffed, and stamped to her door before throwing it open.

"McLaggen, what on earth are you doing?" She shouted to the man lying in the snow in her front garden, letting the entire street know the capacity of his lungs. He pushed himself up onto one arm before a slow smile spread across his face.

"Granger! Come! Join me!" He hiccuped, his other arm outstretched towards Hermione. She looked at him with pursed lips before tightly crossing her arms. She realised very quickly that he was drunk, with only one shoe on and his hair plastered across his forehead rather than neatly styled as she had only ever seen it before, Hermione felt a twang of pity for the boy in her heart. She slowly made her way over to him and kneeled down.

"Cormac, why are you here? You know this is a Muggle area, you're going to scare-"

"HA! Scare them? Why would they be scared, they have no idea what they need to be scared about? Lucky bastards. They have no idea h-how fucking close their pretty little world came to falling- they have no idea Granger. Merlin, they don't know."

Hermione leaned back on her heels, pulling Cormac up with her. He was not the first visitor she had had in the last seven months; and she was certain he would not be the last. But he was the least expected. Hermione knew that he had fought in the battle, she had seen him, had pushed him out of the way of a curse, he had done the same for her. But she knew everyone had different experiences and dealt with it in different ways, she helped others, Dennis stopped using magic, and Dean relived it at every opportunity. Cormac, it seemed, found solace in the bottom of a bottle, Hermione knew he wasn't the only one.

"Come on Cormac. You're coming in with me."

"Oh so you're bringing me in for a coffee now are you Granger?" He tried to wink at her, instead he only succeed in blinking. Hermione held back a smile.

"Don't push it." She led him into her small house and sat him down on the sofa; he sank down into it, face resting on the arm, his long legs twisted in front of him. "Now don't move. I'll be back in a second."

Cormac breathed in the smell of Hermiones couch, he could smell the ink that he was sure she had split on it many times, the faint vanilla scent she always seemed to carry with her and the smell of burning logs, of a hearth that was always roaring. It smelt of Gryffindor tower, it smelt like home.

"Here. Drink this; it's a pepper-up potion. It'll make you feel better." Hermione handed him a small chipped tea cup with a warm smile on her face. He gulped it down in one and sat back.

"Thank you Hermione." He whispered, eyes closed as he pretended he was home. They sat in silence before Hermione finally cleared her throat.

"Who was it?" She said slowly. Cormac sat up, looking at her with guarded eyes that Hermione knew all too well in survivors.

"What?"

"You know what I mean. I didn't see you at the end, I only knew you were...I only knew when I saw your name on a list wanting to help rebuild. But I knew you were there, and people only turn up to my house when there was someone and they don't know where else to turn to."

"I'm not the only one?"

"At Hogwarts, everyone came to me for the answers to their hard problems they couldn't work out. Things haven't changed that much." She shrugged, a heavy weight on her shoulders. Hermione Granger, the brightest witch of her age, the know it all, of course they all gave her their burdens, they always had. She didn't mind, not anymore.

"Creevy. Colin Creevy. You remember, the kind who use to take all the-"

"Photographs. I remember, he used to drive us all insane. You couldn't turn without a flash in your face." She laughed softly.

"Yeah." He laughed in return. "We were on the far left staircase, you know, the one near the astronomy tower? I told him to run, to leave, that he was too young to even be there. He didn't listen. I think we argued on that staircase for about ten minutes, he just, he wouldn't listen, you know?" Hermione nodded and Cormac carried on. "So we were still arguing when a scrawny Death Eater came running along, I knew I could take him but I was worried about the kid. And then the staircase started moving and I told him to get behind me and he actually listened to me and..." He broke off, his voice cracked on the last word as he put his head in hands, Hermione immediately leapt forward to comfort him.

"It wasn't your fault. You were only trying to protect him."

"But I told him to get behind me! What if I hadn't, what if-?"

"If he hadn't, then that scrawny Death Eater would've taken him out first, then when you were in shock, you would've been next. There was no way around it Cormac." She hugged his broad body, pulled it into her as he cried, tears soaking through the fabric of her dressing gown. She knew Cormac would never fully recover from this, that he would blame himself for the rest of his life, and for once, Hermione didn't know the answer to make it better, so she sat and held him till her clock struck four and Cormac finally pulled away, wiping his face.

"How many others have come?"

"Six, seven." She shrugged. He paused for a minute.

"And how many people have you gone to?" Hermione was momentarily struck; people often forgot when they came that she had gone through just as much in the war, is most cases even more.

"Just one. He helped me and I helped him. Like a partnership I guess."

"Ron?"

Hermione shook her head.

"Oh."

Again, silence engulfed them, but it was comfortable enough that neither wanted to break it. Hermione got up and meandered her way round her furniture again to her kitchen. Cormac looked around at her sagging bookshelves, an old, well used fireplace and her mismatched brown couches. _Very Hermione-esque._ He thought.

As he browsed the bookshelves, Hermione re-entered the room, shoving a steaming cup of hot chocolate into his hand.

"You can stay. Well, I say you can but you don't really have an option I'm afraid. The guest room's down the hall to the right."

"I'll sleep on the couch."

Hermione smiled.

"I thought you'd say that." She stood grasping her own mug, clearly not finished speaking but not ready either. Finally she gulped and opened her mouth. "You might think it's your fault Cormac, but it's not, it was never your job to protect anyone. We were kids, we still are kids. It was never our fight and it was never our job but we all took on the role just as easily. Colin made his choice to fight and so did you. We all went through tough times in the war Cormac; we all know what it's like. The battle screwed us all up, some worse than others. You should talk to the others, it helps."

Cormac nodded at her and lay down on the couch; Hermione gently placed a patchwork quilt over him.

"Goodnight Cormac." She whispered before padding down the hallway to her own room and shutting the door.

"Goodnight Hermione." He whispered back, closing his eyes, breathing in, and pretending he was home.

* * *

Hello! So I


	2. 2 - Parvati Patil

**Authors Note:** This was painful to write. Tears were shed. I thought up the whole concept while queuing and riding the Swarm at Thorpe Park. Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I loved writing it.

X

* * *

In the weeks after the war, the only sight that Parvati saw was the cracked ceiling over her bunk in the room of requirement. She heard the celebrations, they continued on for two days and three nights until Hermione Granger finally decided that enough was enough and it was time to leave their bubble and start rebuilding their world. She heard as teams came into the castle, working to rebuild the infrastructure that had been destroyed by rouge curses and giants fists. She heard as her friends crowded outside the door to the room of requirement quietly discussing what should be done with her, the broken Gryffindor.

Eventually, her haven was disturbed. The first was Neville, quietly creeping through the door. Parvati made no attempt to move. The war had been over for seventeen days, six hours, thirty-nine minutes and 41...42...43 seconds. She had not left her bunk.

"Parv?" Neville whispered. She still did not turn towards him. "We're worried about you."

"I know." She croaked. It was the first time she had spoken since. Flashes of green and red darted behind her eyes as she closed them, shocked at how her voice sounded. She quickly opened them again. Neville slowly moved towards her, he had learned, rather quickly, that moving too fast in front of a survivor only led to a hex thrown in his direction. He understood, he had thrown a few himself.

"You...you missed the funeral. They buried them all in their own site in Hogsmeade. It's beautiful Par, she would've loved-"

"You should have burned them. She wanted to be burned. Being buried alive was her worst fear, you knew that." She spat at him, for the first time sitting up, glaring at the boy. If she had done this only a year ago he would've shrunk back, stammered an apology, tried to fix the mistake. But this was War Hero Neville Longbottom. Instead he straightened and looked her directly in the eye.

"We checked Parvati. She was gone, there was no chance that-."

"Get out." She jumped down; her wand already pointed at Neville. He made no attempt to reach for his own. "I mean it Neville, get out. Right now. I am just crazy enough right now to do something I might not regret for a long time."

A wand pointed at his throat, Neville still made no attempt to move. All he saw at the end of the stick was his shattered friend who needed help, but who right now, needed to be left alone.

"I'll go, you know I will. You don't have to threaten me. But you also know that I am only the first whose been sent to get you. There are going to be more, and you are going to leave here and we are going to help you." He turned to leave as she snorted at his brash tone. "I love you Parv, we all do, just remember that as you hole yourself up in here. She wasn't the only one who did."

As he left, stepping over piles of hastily discarded uniforms, Parvati clambered back into a bunk, the one just under her own and curled into herself until she was as small as possible, closed her eyes, breathed in the smell and pretended that she was still here.

**###**

Neville had been right, he was the first in a long line of DA and Order members who had been sent to try and pull her out of her spiral, drag her out in some cases. Harry Potter, who had been just a little too shaky to achieve anything. Parvati was sure that he would have joined her if he'd had the option. Hermione Granger, who had never really been entirely sure of herself around Parvati, didn't really even attempt. Instead, she apologised, admitted she would be in the same position had Harry or Ron died, and then pulled out a book. Parvati appreciated the girl a little more after that. Dean Thomas, Lee Jordan and Seamus Finnegan had all taken similar stances to Neville, almost trying to guilt her out. They had all left with a wand at their backs. Trelawney had come close, that was until the woman had said that Lavender was fated to be a hero, a martyr. Parvati threw a frying pan at her head. McGonagall had come even closer, she had used logic. Parvati had made it halfway to the door before she crumpled to the floor, the woman helped her back to a bunk and told her not to leave yet, that she wasn't ready.

Eventually, they sent in the person Parvati had expected to be first, but as she walked through the door she understood why she wasn't. Padma had cut off her long dark hair that matched her twins, her clothes, Muggle, were black that was more swallowing of light then the absence of it. Now she was all shadows. Parvati thought it was fitting, she was never as daring as her sister, but Padma seemed to reflect outwardly everything that Parvati hid inside.

"Get up Parv. She wouldn't want this." Padma snapped, hand on one hip.

"Like you would know what she wanted. Just leave me here."

"No. Do you really think Lavender would want you to throw away your life? Sit in this place and wallow, throw away something she never could have. Do you?"

Parvati turned over in her bunk, unwilling to hear what Padma had to say. She wasn't the first to say it and she was sure she wouldn't be the last.

"At least go and visit her Parv." he sighed. "She would have wanted that."

At this, Parvati had decided that she had had enough.

"No." She screamed, jumping from her bunk, storming towards her frozen sister. "No this is not what Lavender Brown would have wanted. To be made an example of? A figurehead of the war because, '_oh dear that poor girl died didn't she, how awful but at least she died doing what was right, just another casualty of war'_. No. To be forgotten? To be just another name on a plaque that people bow their heads when they pass or even avoid because it too painful to look at, to be reminded that the War had casualties that were mostly just children? That is not what she wanted. Don't you are imply that." She took a long shuddering breath and carried on in a quiet, deadly voice. "We were told, explicitly, that we had to inform everyone what we wanted to happen.'Just in case' they said. To be burned with her wand in her favourite pale green dress, to be let in the ocean so she could travel, just like we were going to do after the war. That's what she wanted, but no, Lavender Browns dying wishes were not even enough to grant. Instead they wanted her to show the world what we fucking did, what we _sacrificed, _to_ remind _them to keep themselves in check_._ That's not what she fucking wanted. Don't open your mouth and assume things you have no idea about Padma Patil. Now get the fuck out of here and leave me alone."

Parvati watched as her sister turned on her heel and ran out the room. She tried to dredge up guilt, sadness, anything to indicate that she shouldn't have treated her sister like that, shouldn't have exploded. She came to the conclusion that she was dead inside, and that suited her just fine.

**###**

After Padma, Parvati had begun to think that that was everyone, that she was done, that they would finally, _finally, _leave her alone. So she was very startled when she was brought out of her stupor by none other than a timid Ron Weasley peering around the edge of the door. For the first time since Parvati could remember, she could not bring herself to speak, to tell him to leave. So he nodded at her and slowly made his way over to her till he was stood right next to her bunk, her head tilted back to look at him.

"Hullo Parvati." He said slowly, quietly. She nodded back at him. Since Sixth year, the sight of Ron Weasley had been a spike through her heart. She was surprised when this time, it was not, she simply registered that she was literally incapable of feeling anymore. It was a refreshing thought.

He moved closer still, still almost infuriatingly slowly, Parvati wished he would just shout at her so she could threaten him and he would leave. What she did not expect however, was for Ron Weasley to scoop her up in gangly arms and hold her close before sinking to the floor and crying softly into her hair.

Parvati was frozen, incapable of producing a coherent thought let alone a sentence, a word, even a sound. She simply could not grasp the situation she had found herself in; the lack of control was what broke her in the end. She curled into Ron, his shirt firmly in her fists as she began to cry for the first time since she had seen Lavenders broken body laid out in the Great Hall.

"I loved her." She sobbed into the boys' shirt.

"I know, I know." He said, patting her back.

"No you don't understand, I loved her." Ron grabbed her tighter, rubbing her back, comforting her.

"Par, I know. I've always known." At this, the girl sobbed louder, feeling the pain in her chest, a pressure she was sure would never let up.

She loved Lavender Brown with every inch of her existence. She loved the way her curls bounced when she nodded her head, how when her hair caught the sun it was as bright as an exploding star. She loved how she scrunched up her nose when she smelled Goyles' aftershave, how she always asked for two sugars in her tea before sneaking another in when she though no one was looking. She loved how she double knotted her laces and how she was unapologetically emotional.

Slowly, she began to calm down till she only did a stifled sob every so often and pulled away from Ron to look him in the eyes.

"How do you know?" She whispered.

"She was hard." He shrugged, laughing softly as she scowled at him. "She was, I'm not going to lie and say she wasn't 'cause she's gone, she would've hated that. But you always put up with her, even when she was being particularly awful, even when I didn't. I liked her a lot, but you loved her. You still love her." He stopped, looked at her, she could tell he was weighing on what to say next.

"Does anybody else know?" She looked down at her hands, twisting them together, she was nervous of their reaction. Had Lav been here, she wouldn't have cared, she would've lifted her chin high because who really could've faulted hr for loving such a remarkable girl? Bu Lav wasn't here, so she didn't.

"No. Actually Luna does. But that's only because Lav wanted her opinion."

"Her...wait what?"

"She...Lavender loved you too. She told Luna, she was planning on telling you after the battle. She knew Luna was most likely to be accepting of it, not that anyone else wouldn't have been, she just wanted courage to do it. I wasn't going to tell you, I thought it would... But you deserve to know. She loved you Parvati."

A long silence echoed through the room, neither willing to break it, nether knowing what exactly to say next till Parvati took a deep, shuddering breath.

"I miss her." She said so softly, Ron would have missed it if he had not been paying attention.

"I miss her too. I keep expecting her to bounce round a corner and make fun of me for holding Hermione's hand."

"She wouldn't."

"I know."

Again, a silence stretched in front of them till Parvati moved out of Ron's lap and stood in front of him, helped him up and brushed herself off.

"I'm not leaving here Ron. Not yet anyway." She said firmly, her arms crossed, fresh tears silently making their way down her face. He nodded at her.

"I didn't think you would. That wasn't my aim. I just wanted to tell you, needed someone to cry with specifically over Lavender, you were the best option."

"Thank you Ron."

"Thank you." And with that, Ron turned and left the room. Parvati slowly sank to the floor again wailing as she grabbed Lavenders house jumper she had thrown off before the battle, not wanting to make herself too much of a target.

Parvati wasn't sure how long she would stay in that room, if she would ever even leave. All she knew was the only person she had really ever loved was gone and by some evil force of hand, she was still here.


End file.
